Sinking Into Pools of Mocha
by Monou Hakkai
Summary: Weiss Kreuz x Sailormoon short story. Focuses on Schwarz Makoto bumps into someone she met five years ago, discovering his latest profession. Warning: Dark tones
1. ch 1

Sinking Into Pools of Mocha 1

By: Vash-chan aka Makoto Almasy 

Rating: PG13

Summary: Weiss Kreuz/Sailormoon. ~Focuses on Schwarz~. Makoto bumps into someone from five years ago, discovering his latest profession.

Estimated no of chapters: 5 

Disclaimer: Project Weiß owns Schwarz. Takeuchi Naoko owns Kino Makoto. 

// = telepathic talking = thoughts

Richtig = correct (if you say 'richtig oder falsch', it just means the phrase 'true or false' but on its own richtig can mean 'right' or 'correct') 

****

Makoto walked down the busy night time setting of Juuban's streets. Her tired eyes had trouble taking in the bright neon lights flashing above the shop windows as she strolled past enthusiastic shoppers, who breezed past like scattering ants escaping their nest to find food. In Makoto's perspective they appeared to be nothing more than moving shadows rather than an army of ants. She just wasn't paying any attention to absorb the faces of other people or other objects around her. She had never been this tired in a long time. Going to a long museum exhibition this afternoon with the other guys must have really worn her out. Science was never her thing, which explained the easy fatigue kicking in from the start.

Everyone went to the exhibition in order to make Ami happy. After all she was going to be a doctor soon so it wouldn't hurt to show some support for a mutual friend, right? Ami had to visit the museum to take notes and see whether some of the displays there could help her with completing her final year project at university. Like the others, Makoto had absolute confidence and faith in Ami. That blue haired girl was going to succeed in her final year without any problems. Everyone knew she was a hardworking girl who buried her head behind a book. There was no doubt she would do well.

Makoto's head was free from constantly hearing the word 'galaxy' and 'universe' ever since the exhibition ended and her friends had headed back home. There were always late night shoppers coming into town to spend their money away. Some youths wanted to party till they dropped dead whilst others insisted on buying clothes until their purses were empty. Makoto's green irises bulged when she approached a shop window with a very white background. The mannequins posing in front wore darker clothes while the setting they stood upon was simply white. What made Makoto blind briefly were the powerful lights shining from the ceiling.

She breezed past the window to continue her way back home when her pager bleeped out of nowhere. Her gaze ascended to the black object sitting on the waist band of her loose jeans and the words 'if you can, come for an hour shift' appeared in intense lettering. She knew who had paged her. It was one of her colleagues from work. Looked like she could still make up for the night off work she had requested in order to go the science exhibition. Maybe it might awaken her combat senses and remove endless jargon of physics that had been left behind since departing from the museum. Who cared if it was late? She never had anything to do these days. Finding a worthwhile job was hard for her. Catering business was always very difficult to break through in this town and Makoto had given up looking for any cooking-related job after writing millions of letters to companies. They just wouldn't reply to her and say whether she was successful or had been rejected. Talk about bad manners. Well if they were busy then she guessed she had to let them off. 

Rather than go for a specific career, Makoto had instead found a part-time job as a late night bouncer outside a popular bar. Sounded unsuitable for someone like her, right? But to other people who got on her bad side, they were sorry for taking her too lightly. At least she had another skill to use – her fighting ability. That was what she needed during most of her nightly hours. Just throw some kicks and punches to disobedient losers then her job was done for the evening. Prior to arriving at her destination Makoto halted her casual stroll to approach a busy café. Her nostrils detected the fresh smell of hot chocolate and the distant odour of coffee floating in the evening air. Maybe a hot drink would wake her up so she could really wake up to do her job for an hour. 

Perhaps coffee would be best to drink in order to wake up. Although she didn't drink it as much as hot chocolate, caffeine was a once in a while treat and only ever went into her digestive system whenever she felt like drinking it. Ami did warn her about how unhealthy caffeine was when taken too often. The brunette ordered a tiny cup to take away and paid the man standing by the cash till inside the café. Coffee had its other reasons to be rarely touched by someone like her. Apart from health concerns, there were personal memories. Some that even she couldn't recall so well from her past. Everything in her mind had consisted of duty, Youma and fighting. 

However, drinking coffee somehow triggered another thought and freed her mind from thinking about Youma activity. She was thinking about a person. Someone she saw five years ago and didn't give her a good impression. Why the hell was she drinking coffee at a time like this? Makoto never liked drinking caffeine this much. What did this unusual thought mean? Becoming more curious by the minute, she sipped her coffee thirstily and continued to walk. Maybe it was a supernatural aura within the coffee that was making her think weirdly. 

****

"So, how's your night going, Crawford?" Schuldig slammed the passenger door shut after returning from a nightly stroll in town. Bradley Crawford had his head in front of a Japanese newspaper. He didn't look up to greet his team mate as he continued to read the exclusive story sitting on the front page. 

"Did you get my drink?" Crawford asked without looking up to see the German. 

"Here." Schuldig placed the cup into his leader's awaiting fingers. Crawford sniffed the beverage before taking his first sip. Well, from looking at the way the American was behaving, he wasn't going to say anything else and concentrate on reading that newspaper. The orange haired German sighed and stared through the window next to him. These people tonight had nothing better to do, did they? Didn't their parents teach them to stay in at night? Shouldn't any kids be asleep? What would their mother or father say when they find out their kids had stolen their credit cards to buy something expensive behind their backs? Humans these days were going to be as bad as Schwarz soon if things like this kept on going. 

Turning back to the inside of the car, Schuldig took a peek at the front of the newspaper sitting on Crawford's lap where the huge bold heading 'violence reduced in bar' was spread across the top of the page. According to the article the number of brawls outside the most popular night club had decreased yet again this past month. Why didn't the owners just close that place down if things constantly got out of hand? According to the article, the local hospital sometimes received four brutally injured casualties every night whenever violent scenes like this happened. The colour red was something that all staff in emergency rooms had grown used to in their time. But nowadays, things weren't so violent for a strange reason. Schuldig didn't know why that was the case. And neither did Crawford.

"Looks like the police are doing a better service in this town," The orange haired German said.

"I doubt this has anything to do with them," Crawford answered. 

"Is it Weiss' doing then?" 

The American shook his head. "Not likely. If it was them then there would be dead bodies. The paper doesn't state anyone being killed. Blood and bruises were the main words mentioned." Schuldig was surprised. So if this wasn't Weiß then who was the goody two shoes to fulfil the task of taking out the trash without murdering anyone? Sure there were drunkards who attended entertaining places like this night club but if Schuldig worked there he'd play around with their minds and make them kill themselves to end their sins. Either that or let Farfarello have all the fun in dicing each of the naughty humans. 

"So who do you think is the hero of this town, Crawford?" Schuldig asked.

"I think we can find out," The Schwarz leader replied. He tilted his head over one shoulder to the back seats and Schuldig spotted a dark smile creep beneath the American's lips as he spoke to the third passenger. Witnessing his leader pull off a face like that always meant something amusing was going to happen. One amber eye glittered in the dark surroundings of the car as soon as Crawford's gaze turned into his direction. Farfarello had awakened from his slumber when he understood that tonight he could do as he pleased by his leader. Just one stare from the American and he knew exactly what he had to do in this new mission. Once he let out a throaty laugh, the length of his blade extended and his tongue licked the shiny segment of his favourite weapon. Schuldig and Crawford could sense the desperation to cut someone surface around Farfarello's exterior. 

"Go to this place." Crawford showed the Irishman a picture of Juuban's popular night club on the front of the newspaper he had held in his hands. "If you cause enough attention, it will lure this so-called saviour out of hiding."

"Smart idea," Schuldig complimented and opened the door to leave the car. "I'll go watch the show." 

/Don't let Farfarello get too carried away/ Crawford warned as soon as his team mates stood on the pavements that lead to the busy town.

/I'll keep an eye on him/ Schuldig replied back telepathically before disappearing into the noisy crowd. 

****

Makoto threw the empty coffee cup into the bin. Why did the weather have to be so cold, even when the season was summer? Her fingerless gloves weren't helping her and Makoto had to cross her arms to hide her hands underneath her armpits. It was the only way to save some heat being released into the air. So far the night hadn't been any different ever since she started working here. Thanks to her the number of thugs coming to cause trouble had reduced dramatically, as did any number of deaths on the spot. It seemed each person who decided to come here definitely knew it was a bad idea to mess with someone like Makoto after hearing small gossip lurking among their neighbours about this latest bouncer. 

Still although these past nights weren't as bad as before, Makoto was able to let off some steam by keeping up with her Karate training and of course earn some money to support her living. The other bouncers working in this club knew she was working temporary until something from the catering industry popped up. Maybe then her career as a professional chef would begin in front of her eyes. Her hour was almost up. Normally Makoto's shift outside was two or three hours, depending by how busy the night club was but tonight was the first time in her job that she was working for one hour only. She didn't notice how the shift was nearly over. It was probably down to her daydreaming and the fact that it was very quiet tonight. 

The door to the disco opened and a fellow colleague who went by the name Tai appeared next to her. He was older by at least four years, had a height of 5ft10 and was tattooed all over his arms with pictures of dragons. 

"Mako, thanks so much for coming - even if it was supposed to be your night off," Tai scratched his spiky brown hair embarrassingly as he talked. "You're probably one of the most reliable guys this club has ever had." 

"Oh stop praising me," Makoto said, smiling. Tai was one of the main people who didn't approve of Makoto's company when she first came here to work, mainly because she was female and macho instincts were high among the male bouncers here. But after showing what she could do to two robbers down the street the owner of the club offered her a job without any need of an interview or filling in any application forms. "The science exhibition was long and my brain cells have to be refreshed from anything to do with space or atoms. Guess I had to do something to wake me up from science, right?" 

Tai laughed. "Yeah I get your point."

"It's your shift now, right?" She stepped away from the door. 

"Yeah, it is." He waved to her as she departed from her position. "Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Have a good night!" Makoto waved back and turned on her heels to make her way back home. It was hard to believe how this club had grown quieter than previous years whilst the main town centre was swarming with people who were addicted to shopping. Having a very noisy town centre during the night was at least better than having a group of drunkards fighting outside a bar or stuffy nightspot. Passers-by here weren't intoxicated although there were chances of spotting individuals dealing with drugs. But that wasn't Makoto's job. Those things were dealt by the police. What Makoto did do was prevent any idiots from growing extremely violent while alcohol swirled through their bodies. 

In spite of spotting very few policeman patrolling the streets at night Makoto could see the violence that occurred in all places within the Juuban district was falling; albeit very slowly. But it was progress, wasn't it? Not many people were being murdered or beaten up these days. Was it mainly down to her doing? Because she had been defending against various people each night it never crossed her mind that she was the likely candidate to have created a much peaceful environment at night. She doubted that anyone else in town knew about this discovery either. 

"This sure was a good way to spend the rest of the night, wasn't it?" Makoto murmured while she strolled by a late-night supermarket. Tonight's shift made her feel like she had been standing outside for five minutes. Wasn't it strange how daydreaming just made you lose track of time? Well she didn't want to make such a fuss out of a short job for the night and thought the best thing to do right now was get some rest as soon as she arrived back home. Only then would she be able to get anything science-related out of her head and focus on other things – like how tomorrow night's shift was going to be and whether anyone wanted to get on her bad side.

But those visions couldn't get much of attention after Makoto received a hard nudge to the left shoulder. Someone had tried to run past her although wasn't successful in accomplishing this task and ended up slipping on the ground. Makoto expected it to be a delinquent male who wasn't as young as twelve. However, when her emerald irises ascended to the person who had collided with her, she took that thought back on there being a delinquent present. In fact it was a *girl* who had bumped into her. Someone who looked nothing like a rebel who lived off the streets. Perhaps a teenage girl who was out with her friends and who gained far too much attention from the male crowd. 

"Hey, take it easy." The first thing that Makoto noticed was fear in her brown eyes. Actually she looked like she was scared all over. There was sweat trailing from her forehead and the girl's fingers were shaking heavily. She wasn't just scared. She was terrified. But of what? Makoto could easily guess what the reason was for the girl's running. It was to escape from someone and the likely reasons were either an abusive boyfriend or a thug who picked on weak women. Apart from the shaking and sweat on her skin, Makoto spotted some blood from freshly made scratches on the girl's face and lower arms. Whoever did this to her was going to be very sorry for picking on a young helpless female like this individual here.

"Who did this to you?" Makoto couldn't hear what the girl was saying. The shock was too much for her to speak normally and the former Karate maniac had to lower her ears closer to hear each word. 

"T-the guy is crazy," The girl suddenly spoke. "He tried to kill me."

"*Who* tried to kill you?" Makoto asked. An unexpected gasp from the passers-by was a good enough sign to focus her awareness elsewhere and she turned over one shoulder to see who this crazy person was. Looked like he had caught up with his victim at last. And the girl had a point on saying this guy was crazy.  He looked like he was ready to pounce his prey with that long knife of his. Makoto could see why this girl was scared…but she couldn't stand around to be freaked out by such an appearance. This bastard was going to pay for frightening an innocent person. She turned back to the girl and said, "Go call the police. Tell them what happened."

"But I…" The victim wasn't certain whether this was okay to do, considering the fact that this knifeman was ululating in a high pitch and running towards Makoto at such speed. 

"Dammit, just go!" Makoto didn't waste another minute of convincing the girl and pushed her away in time before ducking slightly to dodge a near pierce to the forehead. Ascending back to normal standing level, she grabbed the arm holding the pointy weapon and swung the thug's body around before throwing him into a lamppost. The clash of a human figure against steel collided in her ears and she saw the knifeman crouch into a sitting position as his backside hit the ground. Was he out cold *already*? That throw Makoto pulled off wasn't meant to black the guy out. Of course she expected the lamppost to bend (which it didn't by a large amount - strangely enough) but not see the thug bending over as though he was sleeping while sitting down.

As she steadily walked towards the white-haired thug, a quiet snigger surfaced from the knifeman. The laugh was horrible and alongside his scarred face it depicted a small hint of insanity. OK so he WAS still conscious after all. Makoto got herself ready in a front stance, inserting a block to defend the abdomen. While in her position, she was unsure on whether to be defensive or be the one to attack first. It was difficult to make this decision with the strange laughter coming from that guy. As though it was music being turned up loud on a hi-fi, the guy's horrifying cackle grew louder as his face tilted upwards to stare at the curious pair of emerald orbs observing him. 

**** 

This is indeed a surprise Schuldig thought while watching his team mate recover bit by bit from that throw. Who would have assumed that a *young girl* was the town's saviour? It wasn't common to see any normal females show some moves like that in public. It was always the men who showed their macho side. Was this girl this generation's Wonder Woman? Where was the popular outfit to go with her heroine look then? Or maybe she didn't need one to prove her power. Well, regardless on having an outfit or not, it didn't matter to Schuldig at all. As far as he was concerned, he was happy watching this mysterious girl acting alert (and perhaps a little afraid) around the Irishman cackling like hell in his sitting posture.

/Schuldig, what's going on?/ Crawford's serious voice interrupted the German's entertainment. 

/You wouldn't believe who this so-called saviour is/ Schuldig said, grinning at the same time. 

/Who?/ the leader prompted. His mind grew more impatient when he heard Schuldig laughing ridiculously and the telepath grew serious before telling him the truth in words. Now his interest was growing /what does she look like?/.

/Ooh let's see/ Schuldig had to think carefully in order to describe an accurate profile of this female saviour, who looked like she was sweating nervously on the back of her neck/ Well she has long brown hair, probably acts violent and…wow for a Japanese girl she is pretty tall/.

/Tall, with brown hair and acts violent, did you say?/ 

/Richtig/ Schuldig confirmed. Judging by the brief silence between the telepathic conversation with his leader, the German assumed that Crawford was thinking about something…perhaps something that he might know or might please him somehow. Schuldig could see him smile in his mind.

/Hmm…I think I'll join you and see who this saviour is for myself/ 

****

"What the hell are you on?" Makoto asked, frowning. Whatever he had taken this evening, it was sure as hell making him high. Apart from the disturbing cackle being thrown at her, the knifeman's one amber eye was distracting Makoto from anything else surrounding them. Stop staring at that yellow eye, dammit She scolded herself. Who cared about how he stared at her? She could go for the other parts of his body too, right? "Oh man!" Makoto lost her inner concentration when the cropped haired dude decided to attack first, charging at her with that knife of his. 

For someone who was a likely druggie this guy could move as fast as her. It was pure luck that kept saving her each time he moved in to attack with his weapon. Makoto wasn't sure whether he was aware of the very minute scratches he had successfully pulled off on her torso. The scratches weren't life-threateningly painful of course but they were still minor injuries that could be dealt with just by washing away the blood with water. She delivered a jump kick to the face and followed the strike with an elbow to the jaw, pushing the knifeman's face till he stared up into the dark sky. Once landing on the ground, Makoto was glad to see there was some blood showing from the guy's bottom lip. It proved she was getting somewhere with this fight. 

She began to wonder whether this knifeman was superhuman or an alien who hid special powers beneath that human skin of his. Her fighter mind abruptly took control of her brain and she was back in reality to remember who tonight's opponent was. In time she grabbed his arm again, pushed it to the side and struck the open abdomen hard in one swift side thrust kick, pushing the knifeman backwards. As he stumbled, she continued her assault with ferocious jabs to the face and finalised her combo with a surprise roundhouse kick with the left leg. 

"Let's see if you can recover from that," She murmured; pleased of the attacks she managed to deliver. People who underwent Makoto's combos like that usually couldn't stand erectly and most of the time collapsed to the ground in defeat. Perhaps that was going to happen with this guy right now. But then again…maybe not. His amber iris shot up once again and a grin caught her eye to show he was still around for another fight. Damn this prick! Didn't he feel any pain since the fight started? She thought that combo she did a minute ago would at least dizzy the guy. But he didn't seem anywhere near affected by any of the blows. 

"Farfarello." 

Far-what? Makoto's eyes grew in horror at the sound of another voice. Who the hell decided to interrupt? She knew it wasn't the police because there were no sirens blasting down the street yet. Did that girl not call the police at all after she went? Was she too frightened? Makoto couldn't blame her if she panicked too much and wasn't able to dial the emergency number; hence ran back home soon after escaping from this crazy guy. The white haired knifeman lowered his knife, which Makoto presumed was because he recognised the person who had arrived at the scene. 

"Leave her to me," The new voice then said. 

Makoto turned in all directions to see where this new opponent was. He wasn't in front of her or on the left or right hand side. Finding out who this new guy was just making her more anxious by the second. "Wait! W-who are…? Uh!" She received an immediate backhand strike to the right cheek and it was her turn to stumble and lose proper balance from standing. Makoto thought she was about to black out from that hit but she shook away the dizziness to recover immediately. This new guy packed quite a punch, she had to admit. And that was an automatic reaction coming from the first strike. Makoto could tell the voice wasn't purely Japanese but the speaker seemed to have a very good grasp at her native language. 

"Shit," She cursed quietly at the pain on her cheek. This was the first ounce of pain she had received since the beginning of the day. 

"I see that your aggression hasn't changed a bit." The new voice continued to say. 

Upon hearing the new pair of footsteps approaching, Makoto pivoted on her heels to see who was behind her. The bright light coming from the lamppost was strong enough to show a new shadow form in the dark. Slowly, the new person's identity began to show in colour both through flesh and clothing. Her eyes widened when she saw who was standing in front of her. Surely it couldn't be him. That really cool graduate who she met a couple of times when working part-time in the local café while still at school.

"It's been quite a long time, hasn't it?" The person stated, grinning cruelly – much to Makoto's shock. 

"Y-you can't be…you can't be Brad," She said. 

TBC


	2. ch 2

Sinking Into Pools of Mocha 2

AN: Crawford is OOC and it's understandably due to the fact he is such an enigmatic person like many other Animé or game guys I know.  Obviously I am open to constructive criticism relating to this character.  

****

Her stunned green eyes couldn't focus after receiving that nasty facial blow.  The throbbing pain on her right cheek wasn't getting any better and she could feel a bright red rash form from the mighty backhand strike.  Makoto stared at the new figure who had arrived at the fight scene.  Damn, was this fight making her hallucinate? Or was she the one in need of glasses and not the guy standing in front of her? This surely was impossible.  It couldn't be that hotshot from five years ago. 

She had no time to make a remark when another punch came right at her.  Makoto managed to divert the incoming left hook away from her face, preventing a second bruise to the other cheek by defending with an upper rising block.  She came in with a roundhouse elbow but the strike was cancelled by a stronger and larger arm.  The end of her elbow clashed against another hard bone, causing the rest of her arm to experience funny sensations.  Very rarely did she come across any opponents who could punch like that.  Who would have thought that a guy who ordered coffee every day had hidden such a skill?       

"I see you remember me," said the guy known as Brad who easily evaded more punches coming to his face with casual blocks. "However people call me Crawford rather than my first name." He then threw an uppercut to the jaw, making the brunette girl skid backwards to almost crash into a shop window.  

"I…" Makoto was unable to speak much from the shock she was suffering through these attacks and by discovering a recognisable face from the past. "I don't understand."

"Really, you Japanese people should be aware of such customs." Crawford was slightly annoyed with the girl's lack of quick understanding though still continued to explain his reason for being called by the preferred name." I feel it is more business-like and respectful to be referred by surname." 

"That's not what I…" She couldn't seem to get the words out of her mouth and struggled to catch her breath.  Once recovering in less than a minute, her mind was intent on asking who this guy really was when she found herself dodging another punch by jumping away from the window, landing in a different part of the street to distance herself from Crawford.  She heard a familiar laugh tickle her ears and she realised that the white haired dude, who was licking his knife disgustingly, seemed to be enjoying this show.  Shit, my night really sucks She thought before forcing her head to turn away from the horrible sight.

"Now, now Fraulein.  How can you say that when Crawford is having fun with you?" Another foreign tone joined in.  Dammit just how many more were they going to be? Makoto watched a third shadow appear into the light and stand aside the knifeman.  Just how did he know what she was thinking? Ignoring this suspicion, Makoto cast her eyes on the appearance of the third part member.  The first thing she perceived was the difference in clothing between the two.  Compared to the white haired dude with a scarred face, this new guy was into strange yet sleek fashion plus had long orange hair which seemed to be flying behind his shoulders.  And why was it was that these three guys had a nasty habit of smirking sadistically. "Crawford, are you sure you don't want me and Farfarello to join in?"

"I can take care of her, Schuldig," Crawford answered, flashing a small grin to his friends.  Makoto certainly didn't find any of this fun at all.  In fact it was a nightmare to be bullied by more than one person.  Ever since school she hated bullies who picked on weaker people.  And it never made her any angrier to find out that a man she had a previous crush on was one of these commonly conceited losers who teased innocent individuals.  These guys must have planned the assault on that poor teenage girl.  It was to get Makoto's attention, wasn't it? That had to be the answer.  

What a bunch of bastards.  Makoto found herself growing twice as enraged since taking on that cropped haired knifeman a few minutes ago and didn't waste another second to re-commence her fight against a certain black haired man in an expensive suit.  She released a spiritual cry and charged at Crawford with two punches from both hands.  It didn't matter whether her knuckles were reddening from the clash against another pair of fists.  Her main concern was to get this guy to bleed and turn him into the police, alongside his buddies.  Crawford still had a nonchalant smile around his lips while he continuously narrowed the damage of her incoming punches.  Makoto could tell his defences to the abdomen were good, particularly against her punches.  It wouldn't have surprised if he turned out to be a professional boxer.  Boxers had good defence against fist strikes after all, right?             

Makoto was convinced that the other two (Schuldig and Farfarello were probably their names, which sounded pretty weird in her opinion) were whispering to each other about something.  The topic had to be about her, didn't it? Despite the fact that Crawford told them he was okay fighting her, she had to expect the unexpected.  You couldn't trust what your opponents say.  Maybe they wanted to throw you off guard and startle you from behind with a group attack.  Of course she had to keep her focus on Crawford though also on the other two weird guys as well in case this prediction came true.

Makoto ascended into the air, preparing a downward elbow attack.  Predictably, Crawford blocked this move with that big arm of his…but how would he deal with something else? After landing back on the ground, she took this opportunity to pull away from her unsuccessful elbow and immediately performed a vicious roundhouse kick with her left leg.  A brief gasp from the two onlookers was all she needed to hear.  It was a hit.  She got a strike in after God knows how many minutes of endless blocking with the hands and evading one's attacks.  Makoto could see a small part of her footprint stain underneath Crawford's chin and the impact of the kick also caused his glasses to be put out of place from his nose.  The sight of seeing him seriously pissed off was something that told Makoto victory was just round the corner.  She could feel it.

"Surprised you there, didn't I?" She said as she set her left leg down.  The young Karate student didn't provide the opponent a chance to recover from her unexpected foot attack and decided to perform the same move - albeit with the other leg.  Seeing as this guy got a rough hit to the face she had to take this free moment to hit him hard again and delivered a second roundhouse. "Take this, you son of a…huh?" Her assumed target unfortunately didn't seem to connect and instead she found her right foot to be caught in a firm hold.  "Dammit." 

Crawford's dark grin was back on his face, which could only mean a bad sign.  And yes indeed things were starting to look bad.  The next thing Makoto knew she found her whole body losing balance and her back collided against the solid pavement.  However her new surge of pain hadn't finished yet.  Crawford's thick hands grabbed the young brunette by the jacket collars and hurled her across, smashing into the phone box.  A déjà vu of her defeat against Fiore sprung to mind.  This was how she landed after he hit her with a strange beam.

"Not bad," Crawford said as he approached Makoto, who was evidently having trouble gaining her balance to stand up.  There was a lot of pain spreading from all parts of her body and she could barely move to escape from these psychos.  Each time her hands gripped the broken glass on both sides she ended up shedding more blood from her palms.  It was only worsening her condition. 

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?" Schuldig remarked and joined the man in the suit. 

"Look at the blood and bruises all over her face," replied Farfarello, aka the knife-licker as Makoto considered in her mind. "I want to taste some." He held out his blade to show his temptation to get close to the sight of blood.      

"I think the pretty lady has lost her voice," added Schuldig, the guy with orange hair.  He outstretched his hand to touch the top of Makoto's head as if attempting to get inside.  She didn't know what the hell he was doing and couldn't exactly fight back due to the painful crash she had just encountered.  Crawford looked at him, expecting an answer from his friend. When he took his hand off her forehead, Schuldig stated, "She still can't believe someone like you would do this." 

Crawford knelt beside her, examining the loser in this fight. "It's my job to be ruthless when I need to be, Makoto." His eyes didn't show any care whatsoever when he spoke.

"Y-you remember my name as well," She exclaimed weakly.  Was she meant to be thrilled that they recognised one another? But how could she? Now wasn't an appropriate time to throw herself into his arms and treat this as a carefree reunion.  Besides, why should she be extremely overjoyed? It was obvious who the enemy was here.  Makoto saw this was the first time tonight he was this close to her and she could get a better glimpse of him from where she was lying.  

That cream suit he was wearing must be pretty expensive.  She couldn't see any unwanted creases popping up on the sleeves or around the trousers.  Very rarely were there any men who could iron their clothes with such neatness.  Then again this guy may have someone else to be ironing his funky suit for him, which would explain why the garments looked like they had been used on a film set.  Makoto noticed that the expensive suit made this guy look older than his age.  But what hadn't changed from before were his dark brown eyes hidden behind those glasses.  Plus the smooth black strands that blended well with his entire physique.   

"Why don't you kill me?" Makoto suggested. "I lost, didn't I? So go on.  Do it." Crawford, Farfarello and Schuldig looked at one another.  Did they hear right? Did she just openly tell them to end her life? Makoto didn't care whether they believed her or not.  She was being very honest.  Her jade orbs watched Crawford slip his hand into his blazer.  Even before his hand came out, she was aware of what he had hidden inside.  This was extra proof that he wasn't a good guy.  He was most definitely one of the baddies.  The pistol snuggled smoothly underneath her chin and then moved towards her forehead in a swift motion.

One glance at all three smirking faces and she anticipated the next action within an instant.  It was time to say goodbye to this world once again.  How many more times was she going to die and then get resurrected? Then again she may not be resurrected this time.  Perhaps her time to rest in peace was here at long last.  There wasn't anything she could do to fight back.  The pain was unbearable.  Almost made her feel paralysed.  While waiting for the trigger to click and the bullet to jam into her cerebral, Makoto closed her eyes tightly to brace for the pain.  However…none of that came, which amazed her.  

Maybe it wasn't her time to die at all, which would explain why Crawford suddenly took the gun off her forehead.  But why the hell was he still smirking at her in that cruel way of his? Makoto didn't understand what was going on and it looked like the other two friends weren't expecting this change of plan either, judging by the puzzled façades developing on their faces.  Releasing a loud 'humph' into the air, Crawford placed his gun back into his blazer and stood up as usual, facing away from Makoto.

"Let's go," He told Farfarello and Schuldig, who both still seemed to be aghast by what their buddy just did. "What? Do you not understand my order?"

"What about her?" Farfarello queried about the fallen girl by the destroyed phone box.  

With his back still turned, Crawford took one last peek over his shoulder and his eyes met hers for one minute.  It was now a game of who could win in a glaring contest.  Anyone could win, it seemed.  On the contrary Crawford wasn't going to hang around for long to play this game when there were sirens blazing nearby now, was he? The police or whatever emergency service was working had arrived at last.  "Leave the girl." And without another word, the three men disappeared in front Makoto's eyes.     

Did that girl pluck the courage to dial the emergency number at the *last minute*? She had no idea what kind of hell Makoto had gone through tonight.  In spite of gaining an intention to scold that teenage girl the next time she saw her, Makoto was glad the victim managed to get some help from outside.  The girl was smart enough to at least obey a trustworthy person's order.  If only she could have done so sooner then none of the injuries Makoto received would have taken place.

"Makoto, are you okay? Oh my god, what happened?" Tai's voice rang her eardrums.  He must have heard the commotion while doing his shift tonight.  Although his shocked intonation seemed to be fading further and further away when she felt herself losing consciousness right this minute.  "H-hey, Makoto, don't die on me now.  Just hang in there." But she was already out cold when he said that.  

****

Schuldig couldn't hold back his amazement. "I didn't think you would actually let her…"

"Don't talk, Schuldig," The Schwarz leader said as he steered the car out of town.  

Schuldig ignored his command and went on. "I read her mind and there was something peculiarly interesting inside.  It just makes me wonder whether it had anything to do with letting her live." He raised his eyebrows curiously, hoping it would catch the American's attention.  And yes it did.  Crawford looked at the German with one eye while keeping the other on the road.  By hearing the telepath say that he must be up to his mischievous self again.  Something peculiarly interesting…why couldn't he say something simpler rather than hide the truth behind long words? "What went on between the two of you in the past, Crawford? Hmm?"    

"*Nothing* happened in that brief period of time," Crawford answered firmly.  "Five years ago, I was working undercover while still at Eszett.  She worked as a waitress and we just happened to see eye to eye briefly.  Why I let her live tonight is still confusing me, ok? Are you satisfied with what I said now?"

"Oh definitely.  Yep I totally believe you." The orange haired team mate heaved his hands in the air to show he was happy.  Of course Crawford's given answer wasn't enough to hold him off from finding out more about Makoto.  Schuldig was persistent when it came to tormenting people's minds and hurting them with images relating to their memories or feelings.  The Schwarz leader wasn't going to let the rebellious German do as he pleased when he was around.  No way! What he intended to do with that Japanese girl was his business.  It had nothing to do with the rest of Schwarz.   

His thoughts shortly went into a flashback of the moment when his dark brown irises clashed with those pools of piercing jade.  Their locked glares met in a hard impact for a few seconds prior to the arrival of the police, ambulance or whoever it was that had come to ruin Schwarz's night.  Even though she was hurt, Makoto still had that angry, fighting spirit burning inside, ready to take Crawford out the next time they saw each other.  Hopefully she would understand that was the primary reason for being allowed to live.  Although it was likely that she was also not aware of other excuses too. 

TBC


	3. ch 3

Sinking Into Pools of Mocha 3

Liebling = sweetheart

****

Makoto sat up from her bed when she felt the sun's rays burn the side of her face through the thin layers of the closed curtains.  Looked like it was morning already.  Or more precisely it was 10AM, as her alarm clock said in large, black lettering.  She came back from the hospital at around 1 o'clock and didn't do anything but fall on the bed to sleep for the rest of the cold night.  What went on last night felt like a truly believable dream…only it wasn't something connected to the dreamland.  The fights that she encountered last night were real.

The sight of blood was indeed real, as her previous clothes showed with the pretty crimson stains and tears in the material.  The bruises on her cheek were also evidence of the events that took place a few hours ago.  Dammit She clutched her face when her mind said the words 'cheek' and 'bruise.'  A reminiscence of the pain she had had to combat for many hours was returning spontaneously and it was mainly coming from both her cheeks.  Those punches Makoto got from last night's foes were unforgettable.  She hadn't felt this much soreness in a *long* time.  The losers she had been put against during her shift weren't always as strong as she was.  It seemed like years rather than a few months since she had a decent fight; one that had nothing to do with monsters from another world.

Makoto headed towards the bathroom to run hot water in the sink.  Who needed to do morning exercise when she had already had a special workout last night? Normally when it came to morning push-ups and Karate practice she would end up with stretched yet relaxed arm muscles.  But her muscles didn't need to be stretched today.  Not from the tough brawl she had just had.  Did she have to thank those guys for giving her a great workout? How ridiculous.  True she let off some steam but there was no point in thanking someone for nearly taking her life away.  Was that even necessary?

Or was it necessary to say thanks for letting her live instead? Makoto's mind was at a blank spot when she thought about that query.  Pulling her long auburn curls into the usual ponytail, she dipped her pale face into the hot water, drowning her curiosity and confusion within the clear fluid.  As her eyes closed, her ears started to play back the sound of her voice yelling in pain each time she took in those mighty punches and when she was thrown into the phone box.  Her back began to flash in pain once she pictured herself crashing into the glass and feeling the sharp ends scrape her lower back.

Who would have thought that leftover from a fight could be this repetitive? It was driving her mad.  It was irritating! A hint of anger suddenly flew into her thoughts and forced Makoto to take her face out of the hot water.  Surely she got enough sleep and wasn't losing her mind, was she? Makoto assumed she could take as long as she needed to fight that knifeman last night.  But it never occurred to her that someone she met from the past would also be involved with this crazy dude.  She thought this Brad guy was a nice man.  Just a kind college graduate who had a thing for caffeine.  But she knew that was all a joke.  He must have had a change of heart and went into crime or something.

What was with the change in being called by his surname then? Had he got a job that boosted his arrogance? Maybe that was the case.  Only really top businessmen would command their employees to call them Mr so and so.  Perhaps that was the case with *Mr* Crawford. 

"Brad…Crawford," Makoto repeated slowly.  Come to think of it, the full name sounded strangely fitting when you put the two words together.  Oh god why did she just say that? Why the HELL was she complimenting this man's NAME? She barely knew him.  If this friendly coffee man was part of an act or was a past phase then what was the real Crawford like? Was he as ruthless as he stated himself to be?

If he was a criminal to begin with then boy he fooled Makoto well five years ago.  He really did.  Though, despite being deceived by a handsome face, Makoto had to admit the guy looked rather classy in that cream business suit.  Apart from the fact it made him slightly older by a few years, he looked like a man of power (and maybe wealth).  It wouldn't have surprised her at all if he did turn out to be a rich tycoon who owned a huge company abroad.  The fact that he wasn't Japanese was something Makoto didn't easily forget since they first met each other.  Quite a lot of overseas students had been coming over to Japan and proved they could master her native language.  Crawford was one of them.

Makoto watched the water trickle away once pulling out the plug in the sink and went into the living room.  Her emerald eyes observed the tidy furniture that looked like it hadn't been touched for a week.  She was glad she was able to keep her apartment clean on a daily basis.  That was another form of exercise other than fighting goons for more than an hour.  But seeing how clean her living room was wasn't exactly her primary concern.  She didn't know what to do right now.  Usually she would go visit her friends or do window-shopping in town before heading off to her nightly shift outside the disco.

So why wasn't she doing one of those two things? Had her brain not recovered from last night yet? She thought the hot water would do the trick, though it appeared she was still musing over her closeness to death.  She honestly didn't care whether she died or not.  Death was becoming her friend since she became a saviour from a teenage life.  This coffee guy she remembered five years ago was also becoming a new bother to her now.  She didn't know where he was now.  But nevertheless, she prayed the police would find him and his crazy friends.  She hated to see another helpless girl get chased by a nutcase who scared the shit out of people with his knife.  Especially when it was someone who went by the name -what was it again?-  Oh yes…Farfarello.

Then there was the other guy who had orange hair.  Schuldig was his name, wasn't it? Makoto didn't know how she could still pick these details up after having a heavy rest in the hospital (where she recovered quickly) and in her own comfy bed.  Farfarello and Schuldig didn't seem to be your typical thugs who Makoto could beat instantly.  They could have been gangsters who would do anything to kill people.  There was hardly any gentleness seen behind those two faces.  And the same went for Brad too.  Makoto never realised he could look so dark.  It seemed uncharacteristic for a supposedly nice person like him.             

Dammit she had to keep reminding herself that he wasn't nice.  He was probably never nice in the first place.  But like she knew that before! A dark person who showed no mercy was meant to look bad.  That was why the term villain was used, wasn't it? Groaning furiously, Makoto decided the best thing for her right now was to go for a stroll in town to let her brain get some fresh air.  She didn't pick up each of her footsteps as she left the apartment like a gust of wind trailing past stationary objects.  She was too eager to get out.  Two different bleeps from gigantic trucks greeted her as soon as she stepped into the street.

Already the road was becoming congested.  Life seemed to be busy as usual, whether it was on the road or in an office.  Makoto didn't seem to care about how bad traffic was today.  She just wanted to walk forever to give her mind a rest.  Of course that wasn't easy when you had a familiar face floating in front of you and drowning your mind into a pool of guilt for not realising what a different person this so-called friendly individual was.  Looks were deceiving, weren't they? Makoto wanted to stab herself in the heart for occasionally permitting herself to fall into such traps when it came to men. 

She slapped her cheeks hard, which just happened to make the faded bruises suddenly come back to life with short moments of agonising pain.  What the hell was up with her? Why couldn't she just forget about this coffee man and do something worthwhile before heading to work tonight? Yes, this is the best thing.  Just forget about Brad uh I mean Crawford She thought.   

/I doubt you'd be able to forget his face *that* easily, Liebling/

"Huh?" The Japanese brunette suddenly halted on her strolling after hearing an eerie voice tamper with her inner thoughts.  Jade eyes bulging sharply, she turned over her shoulder to see another recognisable face standing by the door of a fast food restaurant, crossing his arms in a nonchalant grace and grinning in the same sadistic way as Crawford did last night.  That orange hair was something that always caught one's eye if they passed this man.  

"You!" Makoto said as her first reaction.  She rubbed her temples soothingly without any specific reason.  Did this guy just talk to her via telepathy? Or were her ears hearing things? There were no such things as psychics now, were there? "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," Schuldig replied. 

"Sorry, not interested." She commenced to leave but his voice echoed in her mind again to prevent her from going any further.

/But don't you want to know who HE really is, Fraulein?/ Schuldig murmured.  Biting her lip nervously from the emphasis of 'him', Makoto clenched her fists while her back was turned.  She was now sure he was a psychic.  Definitely a telepath no doubt.  Well if that was the case then maybe she could play along without drawing any suspicion from anyone else.  As long as people were doing their chores then they wouldn't notice anything.

/I honestly don't give a damn about what you, Crawford or any of your friends are thinking.  It's not my concern/ She pivoted on her heels to look at him, glaring with those piercing jade orbs of hers.  This was her non-verbal warning to leave her alone or else.

/You're a terrible liar to say you don't give a damn/ Schuldig said which made the girl frown angrily. /I can see your curiosity eat you up inside because of Crawford/.  

Makoto felt her stomach churn automatically when he said that.  There was no point in letting herself be brain-damaged by some freak's words.  She had to ignore whatever he said once this conversation was over /Look, I know what he is.  He's a murderer, isn't he?/.  Why else did he carry a gun in his blazer? Wasn't it common sense? After all he was going to shoot her…though chose not to for some strange reason. 

/You picked that up quickly, didn't you?/ The German complimented, almost as though he was applauding her.  He was amazed that this girl wasn't showing any serious signs of shock or horror around her face.  Maybe the jolt of discovering the guy, whom she had the hots for five years ago, was an assassin had already left her system since their fight ended.  However that didn't ruin the other fun Schuldig had in store for her.  How was she going to react when she learnt more? /A little bird tells me he won't kill you.  Do you know why he let you live last night?/.  

Makoto dreaded to hear this big question and averted her eyes from the orange haired man, losing the glare she had been keeping up.  Yes, why did Crawford let her live? That was a good issue to bring up but she didn't want to hear about it.  This was too frightening to even elaborate on.  Schuldig could smell the fear rise all over her body and also develop slowly in clusters through her mind.  Her thoughts were starting to taste much sweeter than before.  This was becoming enjoyable by the minute.  Screw Crawford for not letting him go near this girl.  She was really amusing to watch after all.  

Schuldig walked towards her as she stood in the middle of the street, her heart beating faster than usual, and whispered into her ear, "He wants you." Automatically, she gasped when he heard him say those daunting words she feared would come true.  He managed to hear her thought exclaim 'It's not possible' and decided to play with her further. "Oh yes, it's true, Makoto.  Ever since he set his eyes on you in that café, working as a waitress, he's always wanted you."

"N-no way," She gasped, unable to believe each word.  

"This wanting from back then just came back to him when he saw you last night."

"Stop this," She said, trying to cover her ears.  This was starting to kill her brain as well as her body's system.    

Schuldig grabbed her arm while continuing to whisper.  This game was too good to end now. "He wants to taste you inside and out.  Crawford wants to make you…"

"ENOUGH!" Makoto hoisted her right fist up to throw a punch to him but missed the strike.  Schuldig was suddenly on her left hand side, still smirking at her sickly.  He was damn fast, wasn't he? Crawford took about a minute each time she threw a punch at him but Schuldig seemed like he took merely a second to dodge her.  She then heard silent whispering and looked around to see some curious faces staring at her, all of them wondering what the hell was going on.  Now she was the centre of attention.  This mind game was making her frustrated.  Good thing she managed to let her tension out, even though she looked like an absolute idiot in public.                                   

Makoto slowed her irregular exhalation as she forced another glare towards Schuldig, who looked like he was being very entertained by a show.  "You get the hell out of my sight!" 

He laughed at the threat. "Don't worry I'll be on my way." Prior to his departure, he flashed a seductive wink and turned on his heels to leave the startled yet extremely pissed off brunette female standing in the middle of the now very quiet street.  The buses that drove past her didn't appear to catch her attention as she watched the orange haired German disappear in front of her eyes.  Why the hell didn't she stop him? The police should be informed on the whereabouts of these attackers, shouldn't they? Why else did she give them a description of the three men while recovering in the hospital last night? 

But something was preventing her from dialling the emergency number.  She didn't know what it was though.  Some strange glue was preventing her body from running to the nearest phone box; preferably one that wasn't smashed.  Her burden was likely to have something to do with Schuldig…and perhaps Crawford.  Damn those men.  How could she take all those remarks from that telepathic dude? Schuldig must have assumed Makoto had a weak mind and decided to use this to his advantage.  That would explain why it was easy for him to speak to her telepathically and piss her off with frightening words about Crawford.                                  

Suppose Crawford or Schuldig came back to attack her for real, what was she to do? Well of course there was one option.  And that was to stop them from really killing her.  Plus to turn them into the police where possible.  Yes, that sounded like the right thing to do.  She knew either one of them were going to come back to her.  It would most likely be tonight, for sure.  After all she was working in the evening.  I won't let him or Schuldig get away with another attack She thought determinedly.

****

Schuldig opened the car door to sit in the driver's seat.  Today was so fun.  What a way to spend a morning.  He honestly couldn't help himself after reading that girl's mind.  Her anxiety and suspicion about who she assumed Crawford was as a person were two of the main aspects that stuck out from her thoughts, which explained why it was easy to reach into her.  While trying to focus on getting herself up from crashing into the phone box, she didn't realise she had made herself vulnerable to mind reading.

When Schuldig was about to get inside, he noticed another car behind him and spotted the driver approaching.  Naturally it was the Schwarz leader.  Who else would wear business suits and look like a stuck-up bastard who wanted to keep everything in order? Crawford was the typical kind of guy to check what his team mates were up to.  Why didn't Schuldig just expect this to happen and accept he screwed up? Oh hell he couldn't.  If he didn't get a chance for fun then that was his day wasted, wasn't it?

"What did I tell you about playing with the girl?" The American scolded the German, poking left his shoulder. "Didn't I specifically mention to leave her alone and that *I* would deal with her myself?"

"Whoa, Crawford's getting defensive now, is he? Glad to see you finally come out with a confession," Schuldig joked, giggling simultaneously.  

"You are a real pain in the butt sometimes, Schuldig.  Don't get the habit of disobeying me as your leader." 

"Hey, what are you going to do now?" The telepath asked.  Crawford paused in his walk back to his car once he heard that question.  Truthfully, things weren't going as he planned.  He was hoping to talk to Makoto formally about who he really was but that looked like it wasn't going to happen.  Not when he had a vision just a minute ago.  It was the same vision he had after he left her by the phone box and when the emergency services arrived.  Why was this mental picture repeating in front of him? 

He never took the first vision seriously but then after realising *she* was the saviour of this town, he was back to being his serious workaholic self and wanted to know what she was up to these days.  On the other hand, this new vision that had repeated for the second time today looked like it was warning him that these foreseen events were going to come true for him…and her.  What was he to do? Was he going to see how reality played on its own? Did he really want to see if this was how she would act when she met him face to face? God, how he hated temptation and inquisitiveness.  It was killing him.

"Head back to our quarters," Crawford ordered as he went back to his vehicle.

"Did you just have a vision of her again?" Schuldig asked.  "I could have sworn I saw you smile a bit there.  Unless that was my imagination." 

"I did say I was going to 'deal' with her, didn't I?" The precognitive said. "While I'm absent to do my work, you will stay with Farfarello and Nagi." He walked off without any other response to his team mate. 

Schuldig snorted in annoyance. "Tch, you sure know how to ruin my fun, don't you?" Prior to getting into his own car, the German's annoyance faded straight away once a delightful feeling soared inside of him and a playful smirk captured his lips. "But then again…I'm sure you're going to enjoy your moment with her.  Isn't that right, Crawford?" Even though the leader wasn't showing his true emotions, Schuldig had an idea to what the vision was about.  It wasn't too hard to work out now, was it? He had the feeling that these two were going to have one hell of a time together. 

TBC 

AN: Schuldig's manipulative schemes around the middle of this chapter aren't exactly what I would call a mind-fuck, which is a word that is pretty easy to work out by the name.  He could easily have done this so-called mind-fuck to an extended level if he was able to get Makoto under *his* own control -i.e. do some naughty stuff to her mind- rather than piss the person off with his or own confused thoughts (in this case Makoto's thoughts on who Crawford really is).  I wanted to keep his playful and naughty telepathy at a low level rather than make him do something more dangerous.  


	4. ch 4

Sinking Into Pools of Mocha 4

****

Makoto didn't take her eyes off every single building she passed as she walked down the street to head for her shift at the disco.  Every night she left her home half an hour early before her actual shift started.  This was merely done to prepare herself for the night.  It made her eyes more alert in the dark environment and awakened her fighter's senses, powering her strength when it was the right time.  All in all she always felt ready to take on anyone if they treated her as a joke.  Besides she had a much better reason to keep her training up and running.  She was certain she was going to bump into HIM tonight but the big question was when he would show up.

After being screwed in the head by Schuldig this morning, Makoto raced back home to practise some moves.  She could see that these guys meant business.  If they wanted to make a mess out of her then she was going to do the same to them before making them sit in a prison cell for God knows how many months or years.  It would have been great if she could have settled this weird conflict with Crawford without any form of violence although it sounded unrealistic in her book of problem solving.  

Only her fists were going to do the talking.  It was the best solution she could think up.  Anyway shouldn't she have the right to punch Crawford when she had the chance? He and his friends were the ones who started the trouble.  Makoto was going to pay them back for picking on innocent people.  From afar, she could see the flashing lights that were decorated above the door of the disco, flickering in green and white every consecutive minute.  Tonight seemed rather quiet as it had been over the past month.  

Ever since she got the bouncer job nobody could deny that life had grown tranquil.  It was mostly thanks to her helping out no doubt.  The rest of the temporarily peaceful moments were done by the police whenever they wished to show up in Juuban.  Not many policemen were aware of Makoto's abilities, assuming she was a feminine girl who did as she pleased during the night.  Unsurprisingly, some wouldn't accept the fact she was a tough female bouncer who took no shit from anyone if they dared mess with her outside the most popular discotheque.  But nevertheless, the regular faces Makoto saw patrolling on the streets often showed their respect and greeted her each time they met the young girl.  Those moments were very rare and it was common for those officers to head out of town straightaway if there was an emergency elsewhere.

Makoto checked her hands to see whether they were alright and not shivering like crazy in the nightly air.  She had grown used to wearing fingerless gloves every evening and the protective garments were able to lower the number of times her hands shook from the cold.  Even though she was on shift tonight, she had to be on the look out for Crawford or his buddies.  She was hoping to see Crawford more than the others so then her curiosity would burst out into the open and she would talk to him face to face rather than have Schuldig playing with her brain in an annoyingly painful manner, taunting her about embarrassing feelings. 

She would definitely know if either one of her opponents would be here tonight if another victim came into the open, perhaps a young girl who was screaming for help.  That would be a signal for Makoto to get out there and do her heroic stunt like she often did every night and then an opportunity to beat the hell out of Crawford.  He was going to come tonight.  She just wanted to know where and when.  Impatience was one of her flaws, she had to admit.  But then again, what if he never came? Should she simply get on with her night as though he never existed? Maybe she should...

****

Crawford stared at the shop window from his table.  One hand cradled the round coffee cup and steam from his beverage travelled towards his chin, passing his nose and attacking the lens of his glasses.  The rumours about this café were definitely true, he had realised.  They did sell various types of coffee and that was what intrigued him to buy something to drink.  Coffee was a man's best friend if you needed it that badly.  The American had been working non-stop today after his run-in with Schuldig.  

How did he guess that the mischievous Telepath would play with that girl? It was tempting to spank the naughty German for his punishment but Crawford's workaholic mind controlled his impatience and forced him to get back to focusing on the real deal.  Concentrating on how to get the truth out to Makoto was proving to be difficult.  If Schuldig hadn't have gone off to do as he pleased without any permission from his leader, Crawford would have arranged a simple one-to-one talk with the former schoolgirl waitress.

There would be no punches or bleeding cheeks.  Just a business-like conversation between two people who met five years ago in a café.  Crawford knew from looking into Makoto's eyes that she wanted to find out more on who this guy was.  Schuldig had been telling him about her thoughts.  She was still under the influence of assuming this twenty-two year old American was a cool, handsome graduate who enjoyed Japanese culture and mastered the Japanese language.  Looked like his act back then really was convincing.  True he was a student in university but he had other reasons to being in this country.  Befriending Makoto was supposed to be part of his disguise…although somehow it didn't look like this was the case these days.  Who would have thought that Fate would bring them back together after all these years, under such circumstances?   

Crawford drank his coffee slowly and checked his wrist watch.  A few more minutes left till she arrived at her shift.  Despite the fact he hadn't seen her yet, he sensed her far away.  It wasn't just her physical presence, it was her mind.  He may not have been a telepath like Schuldig but someone like her had a brain filled with anger and aggression, which were both dying to be released from their shells.  He had been here for fifteen minutes, awaiting her arrival outside the bar not far from this small café.  Ever since he left Schwarz's temporary quarters, he felt an excited sensation fill his system.  He was looking forward to seeing her, wasn't he?

It wasn't like him at all.  Nagi, Farfarello and Schuldig pointed that out to their leader before he departed this afternoon.  Crawford wasn't someone who liked to share his personal thoughts with anyone and a conversation with him merely meant business.  There were times though where he did demonstrate his cold side when it came to assassinating people on missions.  He could be a bastard at this kind of thing even though his sadistic attitude didn't show as clearly as Farfarello or Schuldig's.  Maybe this excitement was down to this sadistic part of him.  Was he looking forward to hurting her again? He had to admit, that girl did look pretty when she was in pain.  So it wasn't down to love, was it? Thank the heavens! His mind thought.  There was no such thing as love in his opinion.  Humans were easy prey to such an emotion.  Crawford's mocha eyes flashed briefly after he spotted something outside.  Seemed like the time had come to pay the lovely face a visit.

****

Makoto rubbed her hands together when she arrived just outside the door, preparing for her shift for tonight.  Five minutes ago, Tai had just gone inside after finishing his time by the entrance.  The rest of his night was now on the dance floor, which was a ground where people went to get exhausted, as well as to shake off their high sensations after drugging themselves with various ingredients or to liven themselves after drinking a lot of alcohol.  Of course all the bouncers here were careful enough to take care of illegal drug dealing or fights between drunkards.  Those were the main dangers at a place like this.  Makoto could trust her co-workers to do their job whilst she would do hers, which would be outside in the cold night and waiting for someone to threaten her.

She ignored some stares as she stood by the door to the disco, folding her arms over her chest as if a security guard in a huge shopping complex.  It was becoming a norm for her to get stares once in a while during shifts.  Makoto doubted that this group of youths had any idea that she worked as a bouncer here.  What, did they assume she was something more disgusting than a bouncer? She never dressed like a whore, for sure.  It was always a pair of trousers and a shirt.  That was her 'fighter' outfit.  How else could she perform special moves on her opponents?    

Makoto stifled a loud yawn behind her hand and, when she turned to her left, caught sight of a familiar face coming her way.  Her mouth immediately closed shut as soon as she took in the details of what the person looked like.  Well, well looks like her night may get busy after all.  Dammit why the hell did he have to wear another one of those nice suits? Just how many did he have? But hey regardless of how many suits he had in his wardrobe he could look smart.  Only tonight he was wearing everything black from top to bottom rather than the cream suit she last saw him wear.  The dark shades made him a lot slimmer.  God what the hell was she thinking, complimenting on his clothes? Shouldn't she be downright pissed? Why the hell did he also have to be good looking like before? 

Crawford caught Makoto shaking her head and moaning to herself, which made him laugh as he watched her act stupidly.  He and Schuldig could be laughing all night if they watched her like this…but this was *his* personal concern, not the German's.  Crawford's chuckle brought her to stare back up to meet his dark brown irises and he could definitely see the same anger from last night.  "Is something wrong?" He then asked.

Makoto snorted and slowly approached him, leaving her spot. "I didn't expect you to show up.  Well okay maybe I did but I just didn't know when.  Call it a hunch, if you want."

"I knew we would meet tonight." Crawford said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Because I had a vision." She stared at him, perplexed with what he told her.  OK something was telling her that this guy wasn't as nice or normal as she first thought back then.  Schuldig she knew had telepathy but Brad…what was his deal? Come to think of it, were his entire posse all psychics? She had a hard time picturing the psycho knifeman Farfarello as someone who possessed psychic powers.  But he was someone who couldn't feel pain, it seemed.  Yes that made sense.  None of her hits on him really injured his body.  Casting that aside, she went back to Crawford.

"Are you telling me you can see the future then?" Makoto assumed, taking away the confused stare.  He nodded to confirm the truth.  Oh shit she thought.  So this was why he was hard to fight.  He could easily predict her moves before she made up her mind on what to use as an attack.  Dammit that was cheating.  No! It was a disadvantage for her.  How was she to fight someone like him then? 

"I only see a small glimpse of the future," Crawford added, as though he wanted to make her feel less threatened (which seemed unlikely).  Small or not, Makoto couldn't help keeping her defence up.  He could be bluffing for all she knew.  Maybe he could see every single move she was about to pull off rather than the first three attacks.  Freaks like him couldn't be taken too lightly.  She had to deal with Crawford quickly before dialling the emergency number to get the police coming.

"Brad…uh sorry, Crawford," Makoto had to correct herself straightaway.  She knew it pissed him off from the way he bit his lower lip after she said his first name. "Are you really a murderer?" It was hard to say that word because her mouth quivered slightly, which most likely meant she was reluctant to state this particular noun aloud. "I'm asking you this because your buddy Schuldig told me some stuff today."

"Schuldig may clown around during his spare time but what he says is quite true," He replied, ignoring the silliness he had encountered today with his team mate. "I've been trained as an assassin for many years." His eyes hardened. "Even when I met you."

Makoto restrained herself from saying anything rude to hide her shock.  The truth was out at last.  The nice Brad dude she met in the past was nothing.  It was all an act.  Wherever he worked his nice guy routine was all an act.  And she was one of the main people deceived by this façade.  Now she was more embarrassed. Crawford could see she was humiliated when she turned away him to show the back of her head where a huge amount of auburn hair was tied into a ponytail. 

"Well if this is the case, then I guess I'm entitled to do this…" As soon as her self-consciousness wore off and her head turned back to face him she went straight at Crawford without another word, knowing he was prepared to get to her.  Still, she had to give it her best to beat this guy down before anyone else became a murder victim. 

This was going to be difficult but she had no other choice.  Makoto wasn't a psychic and there was no point in showing her Sailor Senshi ability because then it would give away her other identity.  She was going to fight as Kino Makoto, so-called saviour of the night who worked as bouncer and blew thugs away with her Karate techniques.  Her mind kept on telling her to go at him with any move.  What she needed to see were some injuries, blood or screams of pain.  It didn't matter.  Makoto wanted to get this fight over and done with.

Both her aggression and anger had to be taken out on something and Crawford was the perfect choice.  He was the one who made this all start, didn't he? Why the hell did she have to meet him five years later? Why did this stud have to be on the opposing team? She just didn't understand life.  What the hell was it with her falling for guys like him? This was a secret that was too embarrassing to be shared with anyone.  Talk about humiliation! Crawford didn't seem to be paying much attention to her expressions as he rapidly dodged her side thrust kicks coming at his abdomen. 

Oh please! He jeered You can do better than that.  This girl was strong but it seemed like she was clouding herself with strong emotions while fighting.  Sure it was entertaining to see her fight out of emotion although there were sometimes careless moments when she was letting herself open for an attack.  When he did take a minute to observe her face, Crawford was caught in her pools of glaring jade and the wavy flow of her brown strands.  As though he was back in time, he found himself back as the twenty-two year old 'graduate' drinking coffee at the local café and smiling blissfully towards the young Japanese girl working as a part-time waitress.

The girl had never changed since their first encounter.  Her physique was the same and she was likely to have the same behaviour, which was through fighting as a saviour.  For a second, he suddenly recalled a rumour where she was given the nickname Karate Maniac in a previous school and that caused her to leave so she would end up in Juuban High.  Although those rumours didn't hurt her mentally, Crawford remembered how very friendly she was during her work.  He doubted many people would really believe this girl was expelled from school for getting into fights.  But that was what intrigued him about her.

So what if she was different to everyone with her tall height and sharp stare…he couldn't help finding himself indulging his eyes on her.  Even right now! Crawford shot back into reality to just about miss a jump kick from the left leg after defending himself from numerous punches to various parts.  Makoto swore quietly and stepped back a little to watch him.  No matter how many moves she delivered she wasn't able to get a hit.  Maybe he learnt from his mistake on briefly underestimating her.  That roundhouse kick she did last night was pure chance.  Maybe he knew it and didn't say a word when he predicted she would use the other leg to kick him.  But of course she wouldn't have known he had psychic powers to begin with.  That discovery only happened a minute ago.    

Speaking of discoveries, Makoto saw Crawford had been smiling at her since she commenced this brawl.  What was it he found funny about her? Through her high level punches she spotted him grinning at her casually, at times closing his eyes while blocking her attacks.  He was taking this too easy, wasn't he? And she thought she had him with that left jump kick as well.  

"Hey!" Makoto called. "Is there something about me you find amusing?" She charged at him with more backhand strikes, going for the lower level this time before making her way up.  She hated it when people laughed at her without giving a proper reason.  If this son of a bitch wouldn't answer her then she was going to pound the answer out of him.  What was going in that brain of his? If only she had telepathy like Schuldig then she would find out.  Either that or just shave off his head to cut from the outside and research his brain.  Her voice rose to get some attention. "Answer me, damn…" 

Unexpectedly, Makoto got a response from her opponent.  Her right arm halted from coming in with a smack to the head; thanks to a strong hold around her wrist.  Her body was then slammed against the wall, which seemed to give her the moment to see that this fight had changed.  She didn't notice until now that this brawl had moved away from the disco and they were now at the corner of a closed alleyway.  It was unbelievable how getting into a fight really indulged your mind from the environment of reality.

"T-that hurt," Makoto whispered.  Her back was probably bruised now.  Or worse, close to making her paralysed.  Moving her caught arm away from his face, Crawford showed his face and pulled himself closer to her.  The smirk had gone at last and was replaced with an impassive face.  His mocha eyes wouldn't move away from her, forcing the girl to keep her confused emerald irises in his gaze.   

Makoto watched Crawford's other hand stroke her cheek and then the top of her fringe.  Both these gestures sent goose bumps down her spine and it was making her uncomfortable.  Nobody had the right touch her like this.  Not unless she permitted it.  Her entire body was stuck in its place since Crawford was of a larger size and had pressed himself so close to her own slim figure, which was causing the girl great difficulty in breathing.  As his face drew nearer, Makoto noticed how his expression changed.  His eyes weren't glaring at her as she had assumed.  In fact, behind the impassiveness, there seemed to be curiosity.  A need to search for something.  Well it wasn't like Makoto was paying a lot of attention to that.  She was busy attempting to grapple free from her opponent's action of suffocation.  

However Crawford's strength was undoubtedly stronger and it could be seen when his hands thumped both her arms against the wall as though there were chains attached to her wrists.  His face was much nearer to her than his body; the front strands of his black fringe irritating her cheeks.  She could hear them both breathe raggedly underneath their closeness to one another.  It was clear that the rest of her body was unable to move under such a weight.  In other words, she was trapped and was unable to prevent what would happen next.  Makoto was unable to speak as soon as a strong mouth clasped tightly over her lips.

Shouldn't she try to escape from this man's grasp? To be able to get away from him was unlikely if she was being heavily kissed now, right? When Crawford pulled his lips away Makoto tried to ask him what he was doing.  Their eyes locked onto one another, both awaiting an answer.  However it was too late for any verbal response to be exchanged as soon as Crawford's lips restarted to seek hers.  There was no chance for any air and Makoto found herself giving in to the fresh lust this coffee dude (from five years ago) was demonstrating.  What was the meaning of this alternative action? Makoto didn't understand what was going on.  How could she let this happen? Crawford's arms had begun to work their way around her figure, feeling every single curve and muscle that lay underneath her clothes.  

Regardless of how many times she wanted to be freed the American refused to let her go – just as long as he was able to do as he pleased while holding her against him.  There was no way she was able to throw a punch or kick at this rate.  It seemed this man was someone who wanted control.  Not letting his victims out of his sight.  Makoto felt her feet leaving the ground and her body ascended and her face was now level to Crawford's.  She was able to release a gasp when the man's lips moved to taste her neck, taking in her taste and smelling her.

"C-Crawford," She beckoned him breathlessly.  "W-what…?"

"Don't talk," He told her in a stern yet desperate voice.  Damn, Schuldig was right after all.  She was succulent inside and out.  It wasn't merely through her lips.  Her flesh was something too.  Crawford didn't believe that his wish would be real.  Wait till he got his hands on the German for making him think such dirtier thoughts.  Back in the early hours of the day Crawford was able to suppress from Schuldig his true feeling of what he wanted to do with Makoto.  But right now, he was free.  Neither one of Schwarz were here to watch him.  Tonight was enough for privacy.  He could do whatever the hell he found necessary, which was to release his yearning to have Makoto, taste her and make her surrender to his dominance.  

This girl may have been tough when it came to fighting but under *these* circumstances, she was like a helpless kitty…and Crawford was pulling himself further in because of this crazy amusement.  Why in the world was he putting himself this close to her? Schuldig had a lot to blame for teasing him about his personal thoughts towards this female, forcing his leader to go through enticing notions.  Talk about a *wild* imagination! Makoto's strength shortly returned in both arms and she took this prospect to break free from her so-called wrist chains, creating an opposing force against Crawford's arms in order to push his physique off of her.  This was it.  She could beat him now…right?  

However what happened next was not what she had in mind.  Rather than endeavour to push him away, Makoto's grip on his arms loosened immediately and as an alternative motion she allowed him to press more adjacently to her.  She knew Crawford's dominance was impossible to break away from, as well as the powerful kisses on her lips and the alluring massages all over her body.  Somehow having trouble breathing didn't seem to matter at all to her for now.  What Makoto was feeling at the moment was just so unbelievably good! And it was bound to be the same for him too.  OK this is wrong! Makoto thought realistically I shouldn't be doing this.  This has to stop! This has to….      

Crawford didn't know how this vision could come true.  All he foresaw today was these two fighting in an alley, which predictably came to life, and then a split second of minor kissing.  But what was taking place right now…that was not what his ability warned him about.  Did any of this look like simple kissing? Hell no.  He had taken out his suppressed lust and splashed it all over Makoto, who didn't seem to be fighting it very well.  In fact she seemed to be appreciating the passionate gestures he was showing her and she was giving the same treatment to him.  As they both continued to kiss excitedly, Makoto's fingers scraped through his dark strands with painful strength.  Ooh so the girl WAS strong after all, it seemed.  He underestimated her in this area, didn't he?

In some way an abrupt trigger struck inside Crawford's mind, which then forced him to pull his devouring mouth off of Makoto, who was staring at him with startled green eyes.  The events that went on tonight made them feel as though they had been in another world and had only awakened from their dream of hidden desire.  Or was it the fact that their bodies were screaming desperately for some air from kissing non-stop and feeling one another, which would explain the sudden reflex of Crawford pulling away from her? Nevertheless the Schwarz leader knew his time was up.  The vision he had had come to life and surprised him with more discoveries.  He had beaten his opponent through lust and dominance and nobody was left injured (hopefully).  

As his breathing slowed down, he released his arms off of Makoto and stepped backwards to observe her complete figure.  Even though his amusement was over for tonight, he couldn't help admiring how helpless and defeated the Japanese girl appeared when she automatically crouched down to her knees, continuing to stare at him with perplexity.  The vulnerability she was showing on the outside only made her more attractive as the prey.

"Why did you do this to me?" Makoto asked, unable to breathe properly yet.  He smiled briefly before turning on his loafers to set off without saying a word to her. "H-hey, don't go…oh damn!" Makoto's arm and leg muscles weren't able to move from her position.  She was too exhausted to go after him, particularly from what she had let herself get into just now under his power.  Surrendering to fatigue, she closed her eyes to recover whatever strength she had lost tonight.   

TBC 


	5. ch 5

Sinking into Pools of Mocha 5 (epilogue)

****

Makoto hugged her chest tightly while she sat against the wall.  Her body felt so exhausted from being touched in nearly every place.  She didn't think this moment would feel like it had passed in a blink of an eye.  How long had she and Crawford been doing their thing for anyway? Prior to more secret pondering, Makoto heard a pair of running footsteps suddenly came towards her and she thought it would have been Crawford coming back to fight her again.  However it wasn't the coffee man at all.  It was Tai…and he looked worried.  

"There you are," He said.  Makoto seemed to have lost her voice once more and all that came as a response was a simple stare.  "Hey are you alright? You look…cold." 

"Sorry I wasn't at my shift.  I just thought I saw someone having a fight here, ok?" She explained, rubbing her palms together. "And yeah I am cold." 

"No need to get all apologetic, Makoto." He helped her onto her feet. "Come on, you can do the rest of the hour, can't you? You're fine, right?" 

"Yeah I'm okay now," She said, faking a smile as she walked away from the alleyway and back to the bar.  Deep inside of her, she didn't know whether she was alright or not.  And she wasn't cold at all.  Not from what went on tonight.  Tai was merely being deceived by her small lies.  It was the only way to throw him off guard and wipe off the suspiciousness brewing all over his face.  What went on tonight wasn't his problem.  It was Makoto's.  She slapped her cheeks to force herself into being serious for the rest of the night.  Damn, that Crawford.  How did he know how to make her feel so weak? She didn't understand him one bit. 

****

*The following morning*

Crawford saw her walking down the street alone.  Schwarz's departure was nearly reaching its peak and what the leader needed today was a few minutes to make things clear with the Japanese girl he fought against last night.  He smiled at the word he just printed out.  Yes it was a *fight* all right but it was one with various features.  Indeed blows were exchanged and deflected with easy defence.  However that wasn't where the mere effect of their aggressive sides came out.  

They were both like animals, taking in one another's strength and throwing it back at them.  Makoto had tried hard to surpass Crawford's power but was mostly unsuccessful.  This was no surprise since she was the evident prey in last night's charade of who was stronger.  Crawford was undoubtedly the predator, luring the prey into a trap with small treats to please her.  He enjoyed seeing her suffer under his dominance.  He could sense her giving in to the sensual gestures and she was taking it well, which proved there was some satisfaction growing within this girl.  She hadn't been touched in such a way before, had she? Unless she did then it looked like she must have been unlucky with her previous partner for obvious reasons. 

"Did you leave her begging for more last night?" Schuldig asked; interrupting the American's quiet musing as the entire Schwarz team sat in the car.  

"I can leave that to your imagination, can't I?" Crawford could tell the telepath was being sarcastic in that German tone of his.  Since this morning all the orange haired man did was jeer or pester with the same question on how things went.  Naturally this was down to his curiosity and Hentai-related thoughts was something that Schuldig sometimes liked to bring out into the open, especially when it came down to Crawford.  So what if he was a cold distant bastard.  Schuldig knew his leader had kept his desires for the cute brunette a secret before meeting her last night. 

Just like Makoto was told, Crawford's sudden infatuation from five years ago had crept back into him.  It wasn't expected.  His body simply acted spontaneously to the sight of seeing an old face.  His mind admitted she was attractive and that was down to the pain of suffering lust.  He wanted to see what she was like inside and out and granted his wish during the nightly fight.  Now the satisfied lust was over, it seemed.  Or is it still going? Schuldig wondered as he observed Crawford looking out of the car window.  Farfarello and Nagi sat silently in the back, doing something to keep them occupied.  Nagi was on his laptop and Farfarello was playing with his knife, making sure it was sharp as ever.

"You know, I wouldn't mind having *fun* with her myself," Schuldig whispered to Crawford, repressing a giggle. "That's if you give me permission, of course.  Don't forget you have me to thank for getting you all warmed up for your game so I deserve something too." Crawford snorted at Schuldig's words.  It was his turn to mock the German.  There were some things not worth sharing when it came to playing.  This particular prey was his – and HIS only.  Not Schuldig's or anyone else's.  When something was under his control and order, Crawford made sure it stayed that way.  If someone was suffering like hell under his command the precognitive kept his eye on his victim to read into his soul and see whether he really was taking the pain well or not.

"I'm sure you'd enjoy your time with her, Schuldig but…" Crawford stepped out of the driver's seat to exit the car. "…she may not let you touch her after what I did last night.  I think she'd be too infuriated." As the door slammed, Schuldig leaned back against the head rest.  Any confidantes who met Crawford for business normally said the same thing about the Schwarz leader.  He was a man of control and didn't want anyone or anything to get in the way of his work.  

"Crawford, you just don't want me to touch your toy.  You think she's better off suffering from your games than mine…tch! That guy thinks he's so tough," Schuldig sighed. "Oh well I'll get my chance next time, ja?" With that encouraging thought in mind, he laughed - but it wasn't only from a future possibility of getting his way with that girl.  He was also laughing from catching Makoto's reaction to seeing Crawford startle her in the middle of the street.   

****

"You have a lot of nerve to do what you did last night," Makoto said.  Her fingers tightened around the folds of Crawford's blazer, which happened to be the all too familiar cream coloured one she saw two nights ago.  Startling her out of nowhere only made her aggression expand by a higher level.  Crawford could feel her inner rage spread all over her while he stared at her gripped fingers.  Those slender hands may look nice on the outside but he knew they were deadly weapons when put into a fight.  He found that out the simple way.    

"I didn't predict this, Makoto," Crawford said.  Was he trying to be innocent and in denial with what he did to her the previous night? Well if he was attempting to hide the teasing smile behind that emotionless façade Makoto would be more annoyed and have more than just the intention of punching him in the face.  She would beat him till he was looking like shit.  Much like how he left her after the 'fight' ended; if you could call it a fight that is.     

There was no harm in Makoto starting another punch-up with him now.  Besides, she had taken them both somewhere private and away from the public.  They ended up being in the same alleyway as last night.  Despite the discomforting memories from before, Makoto thought this place was better for nothing if she wanted some privacy with Crawford.  Should any violence go on then nobody was going to see it.  Once Makoto's revenge was out of the way then she'd get the police to arrest Crawford and his buddies, who were likely to be nearby.  

"Do you think I'm just going to let you go without a rematch?" Makoto asked. "You made me feel like a pile of crap after walking away.  I don't let men get away with doing things like that." As she spoke each word, her head seemed to be moving closer to Crawford.  Did she realise she was doing this? Crawford doubted it.  Her emerald eyes were set on staring into his own, showing she was not here to mess around with him.  

The so-called defeat to their brawl was not satisfying enough.  She couldn't believe she lost to him…through such actions.  Even he couldn't understand why he let himself get too deep within the power of lust.  It was a mistake, true, but at least he had made his desires happy last night.  He felt refreshed.  His suppressed yearning for Makoto was gone and he was ready to move on in his job as the Schwarz leader.  There were other missions to do once leaving Juuban.  

"Makoto, you can't beat me," Crawford stated.  

"What?" She exclaimed, furious by his remark.  Perhaps there was a way to show her what he meant rather than repeat his sentence verbally.  Her eyes were too occupied with expecting an answer when Crawford's arms suddenly wrapped around her hips into a bear hug, causing her to release her fingers off his blazer.  The forceful squeezing was too difficult to take and Makoto saw she wasn't able to break out of this painful hold.  Her body then clashed against the hard concrete wall in less than a second, which suddenly triggered a bad case of déjà vu.  This was the same position she was in last night, which meant another thing.  Oh no!  Please don't tell me… Makoto thought worriedly on what would happen next.  Crawford smiled at her, as though he was aware of the forthcoming event.  

Breathing irregularly, Makoto's fear was disappearing slowly as Crawford's lips gently trailed across hers for one minute before taking the tough approach and clasping her mouth into a hard kiss.  Why was this happening again? Her mind thought in one rush.  She was unable to think logically while her arms acted in their own accord and stroked Crawford's hair and shoulders to respond to the sensual actions being thrown at her.  Her mouth could taste his tongue travelling inside as their lips fought each other.  The word 'stop' constantly flashed in front of both their eyes.  They knew it was wrong.  But Crawford was the one who started it, right?

Thankfully the dominant one between the two was smart enough to see that this molesting act had to end right this instant and immediately pulled Makoto away from his dynamic press against her body.  Again he couldn't help liking how weak she appeared after enduring his power of control over her but knew this had to be ignored permanently once he got back to the rest of his team.  Makoto couldn't believe she was aching in the same way as before.  Every part of her felt like it had lost so much energy.  And her mouth felt hot on the outside.

"Now do you see?" Crawford queried.  "All I did was show you who the loser would be in a fight.  This is what I'm capable of, Makoto." 

Looking away in embarrassment, she wiped her mouth clean from the leftover taste that remained on her lips.  She had to admit he was probably right.  It hurt like hell to agree on something with someone like you disliked.  Nevertheless this was a lesson she had had to learn these last two nights.  Makoto would end up vulnerable around guys like Crawford if she wasn't careful enough.  Should she come across him again, who knows what would happen between them? It could end up like just now, couldn't it? And she knew it was wrong, as did he.

"You are such a bastard," Makoto said when she met his gaze. "We shouldn't even be near each other at all."

"Yes.  It should stay that way," Crawford agreed, tidying his suit and hair and making sure he looked presentable.

"You know the police will find you wherever you go." Makoto warned.  However, to her surprise, he laughed after she said that.  What was so funny about mentioning the police? They were supposed to be looking for them. 

"The police won't be finding us in a hurry," Crawford said, resisting another filthy smirk. "We dealt with them two days ago.  They are not aware of Schwarz's presence in Juuban anymore."  

Makoto was speechless.  This group of freaks was unbelievable.  How did they…? Oh she seemed to have an idea.  Schwarz were mainly psychics, weren't they? They could do what they wanted with an innocent human's mind.  Someone among them must have made them think of something other than Schwarz.  No doubt it was that Schuldig dude.  The bastard who had an unusual taste in fashion.  Her scowl dramatically transformed into a gasp when Makoto felt a hand fondle her chin and then her cheeks.

"It was nice to see you again, Makoto," Crawford murmured, his hand instantly pulling away from their caresses on her face.

"Yeah nice to see you too," She answered back in a low voice while keeping her eye on the man as he commenced his departure towards the brighter side of the alleyway, which lead back to the main part of the town.  But Makoto wasn't finished with talking to him yet. 

"Crawford!" The loudness in her beckoning was certainly an act of determination to get him to listen.  She wasn't done talking to him and her shouting was a last minute effort to exchange some final words.  

His mocha eyes looked over one shoulder to look at her. "Yes?" 

"If you ever show your face in this town again I swear it's going to get rougher than ever between us," Makoto stated, her teeth gritting together with bitterness. "I mean it." 

"I'm sure we would get to 'business' if we meet again…but my return to this town is unlikely."  Turning on his heels and looking in the other direction, Crawford laughed sadistically prior to leaving the young girl who was left standing in fury and watching the man in the business suit walk away as though the day was normal.  Five minutes after he left, Makoto realised that she made a silly mistake in her threat.  There were two meanings to the part when she said things would get rougher than ever between them if they crossed paths again.  

One, it would mean more violence and two, it would mean…Oh shit Makoto gulped and slapped her face angrily.  The second meaning could mean something much more extreme than the lusty moments they had been pulling off just now and last night.   Damn, he must have got the same ideas as her.  How stupid could she be to say those things? She should have gone after him to stop this guy from causing more trouble to pure human lives.  But that was impossible.  No matter how encouraging her suggestion was, Makoto wouldn't be able to stop these guys from running off to another town to do some damage.  As Crawford said, she wasn't strong enough to take them on, namely this man himself.  He proved she was weaker than him.  And because of *that* demonstration, she prayed to God she would never see his face again.     

END

Before you even say the obvious, let me tell you straightaway that I don't intend to write a sequel on this.  I'm afraid it's finished.  


End file.
